This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

Unconscious programming makes us eager to believe our own lies
Pinning big hopes on Mitt Romney? He’s a hypocrite on ObamaCare
When you’re finally facing death, how many people will love you?
Not voting makes a statement: ‘You don’t have my moral consent’
Now that his threat is truly gone, I realize my father hated himself
FRIDAY FUNNIES
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
Free speech is our natural right, not a gift granted by politicians
What’s so important to you that you’d like to take it to your grave?